


An Experience to Remember

by fanfix666



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester Has Internalized Homophobia, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Dean is a woman for a short amount of time, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Internalized Misogyny, Internalized Transphobia, M/M, Misogyny, Transphobia, Witch Curses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:22:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23944642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanfix666/pseuds/fanfix666
Summary: Dean pisses of a transgender witch and she decides to teach him a lesson he won't soon forget.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	An Experience to Remember

**Author's Note:**

> cw for transphobia (internalized and otherwise), internalized misogyny (as dean is newly a woman), and homophobia (internalized and otherwise, later on).

Dean found himself eyeing the endless wall of feminine hygiene products suspiciously. Vaginas. How do you care for them? He didn’t know. He scanned the wall of products, finding shaving cream—no, he could rock the bush—and pads/tampons easily. Where is the vagina soap? He continued walking along the wall until he stopped at an unmistakable bottle: Vagisil. It had vagina in the name, that had to be it. Immediately he dropped one in his basket, then, after brief consideration of not knowing how long he’d be stuck like this, plopped two more in. They weren’t very big bottles, so three seemed reasonable. He was about to turn around and head for checkout when another thing caught his eye. Vagisil cream? Did women use cream down there? He went ahead and scooped three of those into his basket as well, then continued walking along the lady wall. He stopped at the pads—no way he’d use tampons—and plopped a box of the longest pads they had (just in case) into the basket as well, then headed for checkout.

He pulled the items out of the basket one-by-one, his face turning redder by the second. He started with the pads, which didn’t seem to faze the cashier at all. Neither did the first bottle of vagina soap, nor the second, but by the third the cashier looked a little confused, but didn’t say anything. When he got to the cream, the cashier’s eyebrows shot up, but he immediately cooled his expression. Too late. Dean noticed. “What the hell is your problem?” he asked, cringing at the lack of masculine gruffness in his voice.

“Nothing, sorry, it’s—it’s just, uh, a lot of Vagisil, is all.”

“Yeah? What’s that supposed to mean?” Female or not, Dean still had his fighting history behind him, he still knew the techniques. He could definitely kick this guy’s ass.

“Nothing, ma’am. I’m sorry.” Dean backed off a little, shuddering at being called ma’am. The kid looked genuinely terrified. Dean took some stilling breaths and stayed silent for the rest of the interaction, paid, then left. When he got to the car, Sam held out his hand, taking the bags. When he looked into the Vagisil bag, he had just about the same reaction as the cashier.

Dean groaned. “What?”

“Do you have a yeast infection or something?” Sam asked, as if this was a normal, everyday conversation, and nothing about this situation bothered him. Dean hated to admit that his brother’s ‘none of this bothers me’ attitude was oddly soothing, but at the mention of a yeast infection, he reeled it back.

“What?” he asked again, stupidly.

“You got a lot of Vagisil, dude,” he replied.

Dean visibly deflated. “That’s what the cashier said. I thought that’s how you keep it clean?”

“Most women use it to relieve itching caused by yeast infections, you can use a mild, unscented soap like the bar soap we have at the bunker, unless you actually do have a yeast—“

“I don’t have a yeast infection!” he yelled. Sam’s jaw snapped shut and he held his hands up in surrender. 

“Sorry.” 

Dean closed his eyes and took a steadying breath, then started the car, not bothering to reply to his bother’s apology. Guilt settled in his stomach. Sam was trying his best, Dean had no business snapping at him like that. He had noticed how Sam used the word ‘brother’ more often in conversation since the incident. “My brother, Dean” this and “My brother, Dean” that. Trying to pretend like no one noticed the massive tits sitting on his ‘brother’s’ chest, that they couldn’t hear the difference in his voice, pretending that he was still a ‘he.’ His chest tightened and eyes burned but he refused to cry at how helpless he felt; that’d just make him even more of a girl, right? But Sam had managed to keep it cool, calm, and collected about this, as if this was a thing that just happened sometimes, and that they’d get Dean back to his usual body in no time.

**Author's Note:**

> i feel like canon dean would be transphobic, so this is me trying to write a situation that would cure him of that. i wrote this snippet a long, long time ago, and never did anything with it, and quarantine has me bored, so i'm writing and posting things again. probably some more backstory in the next chapter.


End file.
